


Detention

by AThousandWishes



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Young Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25435999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AThousandWishes/pseuds/AThousandWishes
Summary: Eleven year old Dick Grayson wakes up in a bad mood that only gets worse...
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written back in 2001.

Dick Grayson woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Well, in all  
honesty, the eleven-year-old had gone to sleep that way…  
  
Robin had spent most of the evening hours at the JLA headquarters with  
Batman. During the meeting for the older heroes, the young Titans  
met in the recreational room for some down time. That's where Wally  
dropped the bomb about the date change for his birthday party.  
  
"October 11th? But Wally, your birthday is on the 15th," Robin  
reminded in a most adult-like manner.  
  
"Yeah, but the 15th is on a Wednesday. See, that's a school night.  
So Uncle Barry said we could have my party here at the JLA  
headquarters the Saturday before." Wally started to speak faster as  
he got more excited.  
  
"Andwegettoparty…allnight!!! Isn'tthatsocool?"  
  
"An all-nighter? Awesome!" Roy gave Wally a high five. Donna and  
Garth smiled happily, as they whispered to each other the different  
games they could play.  
  
However, Robin frowned at the new developments. "Wally, I can't come  
here on the 11th. Bruce has a dinner party planned. All of Gotham  
society is gonna be there…including the judge who granted him custody  
of me. I'm expected to attend."  
  
"Aw, too bad, Batboy," Roy sneered in mock disappointment.  
  
Wally coughed back a laugh at Roy's sarcasm. But he quickly cleared  
his throat and smiled apologetically at Robin. "Maybe you can show up  
late…after all, my party's going to last all night."  
  
"I guess…" Robin muttered, thinking how dinner parties at Wayne Manor  
could last into the wee hours of the morning.  
  
The rest of the evening consisted of the other four Titans discussing  
the fun games and activities they were sure to do at Wally's birthday  
celebration, while Robin sat woodenly on the couch not saying a word.  
  
**********  
  
When Dick had finally returned to Wayne Manor, he hoped to find a  
confidant in Bruce. However, his mentor was not in the greatest of  
moods either. Apparently things had not gone smoothly in the JLA  
meeting. Batman was muttering under his breath about hotheaded  
Atlanteans and country-boy aliens. So when Dick had tried to bring  
up the date change of Wally's party, the only answer he got was a  
curt, "We'll discuss it later."  
  
So, Dick Grayson had watched the sun set on his anger and found that  
same sun rising on a growing rage.  
  
**********  
  
When the young adolescent walked down the stairs and into the kitchen  
that morning, a much too cheerful Alfred greeted him.  
  
"Ah, good morning, Master Dick. What brand of cereal would you like  
with your toast?"  
  
"Wheaties," came a sullen answer.  
  
Alfred gave an apologetic grin as he said, "I am deeply sorry, sir…  
but we seem to have eaten all of that brand. Is there another…?"  
  
"No, there is not," Dick huffed out. Then mumbling under his breath,  
"I'm not hungry anymore." With that, he began to stumble out of the  
kitchen, only to be stopped by an imposing figure blocking the  
doorway.  
  
"You will apologize to Alfred for your rude behavior."  
  
Dick glared at Bruce. He knew he was being ugly, but the anger  
inside of him was all-consuming. Yet, the boy also knew that Bruce  
would not let him leave without direct obedience.  
  
"I'm sorry, Alfred. Now may I be excused to get ready for school?"  
  
Bruce merely nodded and watched his seething ward exit the room.  
  
"Well sir, we were expecting something of this nature. Should I talk  
to him?" Alfred inquired softly.  
  
"Not yet, Alfred." Bruce sighed deeply. "I'm hoping he'll open up on  
his own."  
  
"Like you did, Master Bruce?" Alfred's voice was laced with sarcasm.  
  
Throwing a hard glare at the older man, Bruce mumbled, "He just needs  
a little more time, okay?"  
  
"Whatever you say, sir," Alfred replied.  
  
**********  
  
Dick stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself.  
Then walking into his bedroom, he saw his freshly made bed with  
neatly pressed clothes laid out. Seeing Alfred's handiwork, Dick  
felt a little guilty over his earlier tirade. That is…until he saw  
the sweater the gentleman's gentleman had set out for him to wear.  
  
"Aw man! Not this crappy sweater! It's like a Charlie Brown reject!"  
Dick picked up the hated item and flung it across the bed.  
  
"A problem, sir?" Alfred stood by the door with a helpful look upon  
his face.  
  
"Well, yeah! I hate that stupid sweater…and you know it! I'm not  
wearing that!" Dick stated forcefully.  
  
Alfred sighed. He knew why the boy was expressing such anger, but it  
was Master Bruce's wish not to confront Dick about it. So instead,  
Alfred addressed the present problem. "Young man, you are going to  
be late for school. I suggest you dress yourself in the garments  
made available to you at once. I shall meet you downstairs in ten  
minutes."  
  
With that, Dick Grayson found himself alone.  
  
**********  
  
Ten minutes later, a very aggravated eleven-year-old boy walked out of  
Wayne Manor and plopped into the seat of a waiting limo. The drive  
to school was long and quiet. When Alfred stopped outside the  
schoolhouse, Dick got out without waiting for the door to be opened  
by Alfred. In fact, he didn't even attempt to say his usual goodbye  
to the kind old man.  
  
Alfred watched with sad eyes at the retreating form and sent a silent  
prayer up for the angry boy.  
  
**********  
  
"Good morning, class. Please pass your homework folders forward."  
  
Dick rummaged through his backpack, while his teacher, Mrs. Evans,  
continued to speak to the class. A sudden realization hit Dick…his  
folder was not in his backpack. He didn't remember packing it at all.  
With a groan, Dick slammed his head down onto his desk.  
  
"What's the matter, Grayson? Your butler forget to put your homework  
in there?" The sneering classmate was Caleb McGee. Caleb was a  
muscular child, who used his physical strength to intimidate and  
bully other children. Dick usually ignored him. But today, the rage  
that plagued Dick would not allow such placid behavior.  
  
"Shut up, Caleb! Nobody asked you!" Dick all but shouted.  
  
"Is there a problem, boys?" Mrs. Evans asked innocently.  
  
Caleb merely shrugged his shoulders and said, "No ma'am."  
  
Dick took a steadying breath and then replied, "I did my homework…but  
I left my folder at home. I'm sorry, Mrs. Evans."  
  
Mrs. Evans looked sympathetically at the boy before her. She  
believed he was being honest; however, rules were rules. As a  
teacher, she could not and would not show favoritism among her  
students. "Dick, I know you are being truthful. But I still have to  
mark your homework grade as a zero and send home a note to be signed  
by Mr. Wayne informing him that you did not turn in your homework  
today." Then putting a bright tone into her voice, she  
continued, "Make sure to bring it tomorrow though. If you do,  
I'll only take off 5 points. A ninety-five percent is still an A  
average."  
  
Dick nodded his head mutely. Bruce was gonna be ticked.  
  
*********  
  
Later that morning, the class was given a pop quiz in math. Dick  
found it hard to concentrate. His mind just wouldn't function  
properly. Passing his paper up at the end of the given time, Dick  
knew he had just failed the quiz…and next week was parent/teacher  
conference. Bruce was really gonna be ticked.  
  
About that time, there was a soft knock on the door. Dick blinked  
unbelieving eyes. Alfred stood talking to his teacher. Hopefully  
there was a world crisis, and Batman needed Robin to be checked out  
of school!  
  
"Dick, come here, please," Mrs. Evans called.  
  
Walking to the front of the class, Dick noticed his homework folder in  
Alfred's hands. Alas, it wasn't a worldwide disaster…but at least one  
problem in his life had been solved.  
  
The old man smiled gently at the boy. "I believe you left this in the  
living room, sir." Alfred handed the folder over to Dick.  
  
"Thanks, Alfred." Dick then bowed his head. His poor treatment of  
such a good friend heaped guilt upon his young soul. "I'm sorry for  
being such a brat this morning."  
  
Reaching out to straighten the hated sweater, Alfred said, "Oh, I  
suppose one grumpy day is alright every now and again. Just make  
sure you are not planning on making a habit out of it!"  
  
Dick smiled ruefully at the light reprimand. "Yes, sir!"  
  
Alfred then brushed a stray lock of ebony hair back into place and  
said, "I shall see you after school, Master Dick. Now back to work."  
  
Taking a step away from Alfred, Dick suddenly turned and gave the  
older man an impulsive hug. "Thanks for everything, Alfred." Then  
he quickly walked back to his desk without looking back.  
  
*********  
  
Feeling a little better, Dick went to the cafeteria and walked through  
the line. After getting his tray laden with his midday meal, he set  
out to sit next to his friend, Kevin. When he was about halfway to  
his destination, Caitlin Walters accidentally slipped on some spilled  
milk. Her tray went flying through the air and whacked an  
unsuspecting classmate on the head. Unfortunately, that unsuspecting  
classmate was Dick. Down he went…tray and all.  
  
At first, he felt like yelling at Caitlin for being so clumsy. But  
that emotion soon passed as Dick realized the girl was crying loudly,  
all the while holding onto her ankle. Even in his angry state of  
mind, Dick could empathize with her. He could see the ankle was  
badly sprained and starting to swell…Robin knew all too well the pain  
she was feeling.  
  
"Caitlin? Here, let me help you into a chair," Dick said quietly, as  
he gently placed an arm around the girl. Another boy stepped forward  
to help Dick lift their injured classmate. Soon the school nurse was  
on the scene, ordering an ice pack and another chair to be brought so  
that she could elevate the foot.  
  
Dick had to go clean the food off of his sweater. He could already  
hear Alfred fussing over the stains. Hmm…maybe he would get lucky  
and the stains wouldn't come out in the wash. That way, Alfred would  
put it in the give-away stash.  
  
**********  
  
After lunch, Dick joined his friends for recess on the basketball  
court outside. They were having a good time, until Caleb McGee  
busted in on them.  
  
"Room for one more?" Caleb asked.  
  
The other boys looked at one another. No one really wanted the big  
bully to play…but who would be the one to tell him to bug off?  
  
"Sure…" Kevin said, a little unsteadily.  
  
"Cool! I'm on Grayson's team," Caleb said with a smirk.  
  
"We've got enough, thank you." Dick didn't even give Caleb the  
satisfaction of eye contact.  
  
Caleb walked over to stand in front of Dick. "Oh yeah?" The larger  
boy reached out and grabbed little Rudy Thompson. "I think the kids  
playing hopscotch are calling you, Rudy boy."  
  
Rudy took a fearful look up into Caleb's face and gulped. As soon as  
he could scramble out of the bully's grip, Rudy was high-tailing it  
out of the basketball court to the other end of the playground.  
  
"That does it!" Dick yelled. He poked the big boy in the chest and  
challenged, "If you're looking for a fight, then I think you just  
found yourself one, Caleb! I'm sick of you ruining our games.  
Rudy's small, but he's a good player. Besides, I think he knows a  
lot more about sportsmanship than you do!"  
  
"I was wondering when your true colors would show…" Caleb stated  
almost casually. "My dad says that you're nothing but some orphan  
charity case. He says Mr. Wayne only took you in to look good. That  
maybe someday, Mr. Wayne would want to run for political office, and  
you would be good for his image."  
  
Dick's face turned several shades of red. How dare Caleb talk about  
Bruce that way?!? The anger that had been building inside of Dick  
suddenly exploded. Before anyone could possibly know what was  
happening, Dick Grayson was on top of Caleb McGee. Hailing blows  
down onto the boy he had made subject to his rage, Dick screamed and  
yelled words he did not even know he knew.  
  
Then a pair of strong arms wrapped around Dick from behind. At  
first, he struggled to continue the fight, but soon stopped as his  
reasoning returned. Looking back, Dick found himself staring into  
the upset face of Mr. Elton Mitchell, the principal.  
  
Now Bruce was definitely going to be ticked. No doubt about it!  
  
**********  
  
Sitting outside of Mr. Mitchell's office, Dick wondered what was  
going to happen to him. He was pretty sure of the school's  
punishment…detention. But what about Bruce's…or rather Batman's  
ideal punishment for instigating a fight at school?  
  
Well, he wouldn't have to wait long before receiving the answer.  
Seeing a tall figure at the front desk, Dick swallowed nervously.  
Bruce made eye contact with his ward for a moment, only to have the  
boy bow his head and stare at the floor. Hours seemed to roll by  
before Dick realized that Bruce was now standing over him.  
  
Dick heard Bruce speaking softly to Mr. Mitchell. "Is there some  
place I can talk with Dick privately?"  
  
"There's my office…I'll just wait out here," the principal answered  
back in an equally hushed tone.  
  
"Thank you." Then Dick felt Bruce's hand on his shoulder. "Come on,  
chum. Let's go talk."  
  
Getting up slowly, the boy kept his head down and allowed his  
guardian to guide him into the office. Bruce walked him over to a  
couch, on which Dick promptly sat down.  
  
Silence.  
  
A full minute passed by…and still neither spoke.  
  
Suddenly a single tear found its way down Dick's cheek. He swiped at  
it angrily and yelled, "It's not all my fault!"  
  
"Nobody said it was."  
  
"But you think it was…don't you? It's my fault!"  
  
"I don't know what to think. I didn't see the fight. Why don't you  
tell me what happened?"  
  
"You won't believe me! You'll say you do…and…and that you know what  
I'm feeling…and you understand…but you won't! Nobody does! Nobody  
ever will!" Dick pushed Bruce away from him during his outburst.  
  
"How can I understand if you won't tell me?" Bruce asked quietly.  
  
Dick was silent for a moment. Then more tears began to stream down  
his face. "You lied to me…"  
  
"When? What about?"  
  
"You told me…it wasn't my fault…but you lied. It's always been my  
fault…I know 'cause I can feel it…in here," Dick spoke softly as he  
placed his hand over his chest.  
  
"We're not talking about the fight on the playground anymore, are we?"  
Bruce reached over and lifted Dick's chin, so that the boy was looking  
directly into his eyes. "You remember what happened two years ago on  
this very day, don't you, Dick?"  
  
Dick broke eye contact with Bruce. He couldn't look into those deep  
blue eyes so full of concern…concern for him.  
  
"The court granted me custody of you. You came to live at Wayne  
Manor," Bruce answered his own question. "Does that bother you?"  
  
"I don't know," Dick mumbled, as he continued to wipe away the tears.  
"Yes."  
  
"In what way?"  
  
Dick finally looked up at Bruce. Tears reforming in his eyes, the boy  
asked in a barely audible voice, "Is it wrong to be happy? If it's  
wrong to be happy, then I've…been bad."  
  
Suddenly Bruce found himself holding a sobbing boy in his arms.  
Reaching up to stroke his hair, the man tried his best to voice the  
emotions Dick had no words for. "You're upset because you're happy  
at Wayne Manor…and if you are truly content there, then that must  
mean it's okay that your parents died? Is that it?"  
  
The only answer was a nod followed by more sniffles.  
  
"Dick, listen to me. You didn't wish or cause or hope for your  
parent's death. I'm not lying when I say it's not your fault,  
because it isn't." Bruce then hugged Dick tighter. "If anything,  
it's my fault."  
  
"What?" Dick sat up meekly and looked curiously at Bruce. "How   
could it be your fault?"  
  
"That night…while I was watching you perform, I thought to myself  
that if I ever had a boy of my own…well, I would want one just like  
you." Bruce looked down at the floor, as a little wave of self-guilt  
seemed to cloud his soul as well.  
  
Dick blinked in surprise at this newly revealed information. "So you  
didn't take me in as just some orphan charity case?"  
  
"No! Where did you get an idea like that?" Bruce demanded.  
  
"Caleb…he said that his dad said that's all I was…a charity case. His  
dad said that you might want to get into politics one day…and I would  
be good for your image," Dick explained.  
  
"Is that what the fight was about?"  
  
Looking a little sheepish, Dick nodded his head and then added, "Yeah,  
but Caleb's been asking for it for a long time."  
  
"Richard Grayson, you don't go around pummeling another person into  
the ground and shouting obscenities at them over rude and ignorant  
comments," Bruce scolded.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"As for being a charity case…no, you are not. From the moment I set  
eyes on you, I saw a bright and talented boy. Like I said before, I  
thought that if I were to have a child of my own, I would want him to  
be just like you. So when you needed a family…I decided to bring you  
into mine…not that it's much of one…" Bruce muttered.  
  
"I like your family…" Dick stated proudly. "There's you, Alfred,  
Leslie, and…well, there's me now."  
  
"Yeah," Bruce said with a smile. "We do have a pretty awesome little  
group, huh?"  
  
Dick smiled back and then threw his arms around the neck of the man  
sitting next to him. "You're the greatest, Bruce!"  
  
Laughing lightly, Bruce warned, "I'm not so sure you'll be saying that  
after we discuss your punishment."  
  
"Haven't I learned my lesson already?" Dick asked hopefully.  
  
"Well, for the fight, you have 3 days of recess detention. That's  
school rules." Bruce waited for Dick to stop groaning. "But the  
punishment I'm speaking about has to do with missing homework and a  
failed pop quiz."  
  
"But Alfred brought my homework folder!"  
  
"It was turned in late…that's still five points off."  
  
"Crap a dog!" Dick sighed. "How did you know about my math quiz?"  
  
"I stopped by to talk to Mrs. Evans earlier today…while you were in  
the cafeteria getting whacked in the head by a flying tray," Bruce  
informed with a hint of humor.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Dick exclaimed, "Do you know everything?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good...now I don't have to tell you your fly's open."  
  
Bruce glanced down sharply.  
  
"Gotcha!" Dick laughed.  
  
"Brat," Bruce said as he ruffled the boy's hair.  
  
  
**********  
  
As both guardian and ward walked out of the schoolhouse toward the  
waiting limo, Dick looked up at Bruce and cleared his  
throat. "Bruce, about Wally's party…"  
  
"I talked to Alfred."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He said the invitations to my dinner party have not been sent out.  
We'll just change the date, have new invitations made, and that should  
allow you to go to the birthday party. Sound good?"  
  
"Wow! You and Alfred are the greatest! How did I get to be so  
lucky?"  
  
Bruce and Alfred exchanged grins. Both silently asking themselves the  
same question.  
  
The End!


End file.
